


Release

by OneEyedDestroyer



Series: Beautiful, Languid, and Filthy-Gorgeous [4]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Drinking, F/M, Fingerfucking, Multi, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 05:41:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14302008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneEyedDestroyer/pseuds/OneEyedDestroyer
Summary: Margo comes home early from a bad date. Eliot tries to cheer her up, and it goes somewhere neither of them expect.





	Release

**Author's Note:**

> And now for something a little different. 
> 
> The fic of many terrible non-names.  
> "Never a Dull Moment: a character relationship exploration or rather Forbidden Bees, or perhaps, simply, The Other One”
> 
> I’ve been sitting on this one for a while, and have honestly been nervous about sharing. I think there is something worth exploring here, and wanted to give it a go. We’ll see how it goes. This one was a journey™️ for sure. This isn’t my best work, but it isn’t bad for the first bit of smut I’ve felt comfortable to post publicly. 
> 
> As always, mad thanks to Vivi for crushing it as my machete, and for encouraging me to put this one out there.

Drinking deeply in attempt to pass the time, Eliot sighs beneath the weight of his boredom. Before he gets too lost in his thoughts, the cottage door slams and the foundation shakes with a fierceness that can only mean one thing: Margo is less than pleased. He has been hoping her date tonight would go well; she definitely needs the … attention, if you will. He’s honestly shocked, she doesn’t usually strike out. She’s been off her game lately and he hoped tonight would be the night she gets what she needs. A few minutes pass and she hasn’t come up or called out for him. He’s a little worried so he heads down the stairs to find her.

“No luck tonight?” he asks when he spots her by the bookshelves, knuckles white from gripping the ladder in frustration.

“Stupid prick just wanted to hear himself talk.” She crosses her arms in resignation and makes her way over to Eliot.

He offers his hand to her. She relaxes her arms and reaches out to take his hand. Interlocking their fingers, she gives him a half smile. Eliot pulls her in close and captures her eyes. They’re burning with that fury she hides her hurt behind.

“Let me help, Bambi,” he playfully pouts his lip. Without letting her go, he starts walking over to the bar. She doesn’t move at first, letting herself tip a bit when her arm can’t extend any further. She looks over at him, and his eyes are begging her to play along. Giving in, she follows him over, dropping his hand when he reaches toward the cabinet. Eliot grabs a bottle of prosecco and two large oranges. He cuts the oranges in half and gestures for her to come closer. He brings a halved orange to her nose and allows her to sniff.

“I know what oranges smell like, Eliot,” she says with a dry laugh.

“I’m building an ambience, Margo.” He brings the orange half into the metal hand juicer and wrings it around while he speaks. “It got you to smile, which is honestly the point.”

Determined to put on a bit of a show, he grabs a champagne flute and places it on the bar with a flourish and a smirk. He picks up the bottle of prosecco and removes the foil. Grabbing the neck with one hand, thumb on the cork, and placing it on his hip, he looks into her eyes and suggestively strokes a few times until it makes her laugh. With the other hand, he unwinds the metal cage. He opens his mouth to speak, but is cut off.

“The muselet, I know,” her tone playfully mocking the way she’s heard the word play on his tongue a million times.

Slowly, he begins to twist the bottle to work the cork loose. Once he hears the hiss of the pressure release, he pulls the cork free. Placing his thumb in the dip of the bottle, he tips the bottle above the glass and pours heavily (not bothering to wet it) leaving only about a third empty. She needs this tonight. He fills the rest of the glass with the fresh orange juice and reaches it out to Margo. Once she has the glass in hand, he steps closer and gives her a quick kiss. “Drink.”

Margo makes her way across the room and takes a seat on a table, sipping her drink. Eliot kneels before her and begins to remove her shoes.

“You look gorgeous on your knees,” she says, half jokingly while running her elegant fingers through his soft, thick hair.

“Is that what you wanted tonight? A pretty boy on his knees for you?” Hands gripped lightly around her ankles, his rough thumb starts to stroke circles. She sighs at the touch despite remaining stone faced.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping,” he muses quietly while running his hands up her calves, kneading as he goes.

“Helping?” She’s not entirely sure what he’s up to tonight, but she’s certainly on board for it. What’s the point of being someone’s ride or die if it doesn’t take you for a loop sometimes? His hands move further up her legs. Once they reach her thighs, he spreads his fingers wide and grabs firm, dragging his fingers down and kneading back up again. She sighs a little and leans back to place her hand on the table behind her, all while taking a deep drink of her mimosa. Eliot’s hands continue to wander up her thigh. When he reaches the hem of her skirt, he slides a single finger beneath it and makes eye contact. His eyes are soft, yet wicked and his lips curl into a smile that is nearly lecherous.

“Trying to give you what you deserved tonight.” One of his hands finally slides beneath her skirt and kneads her inner thigh, dangerously close to where they meet.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His voice is deep, and heavily textured.

She rolls her eyes, and takes another sip of her mimosa before setting the glass down on the table behind her. She slowly relaxes into his touch and parts her legs a little. He looks up at her with a smirk and cocks an eyebrow. She nods in response, her own face just as playfully smug. Without breaking eye contact he brings his lips to the inside of her leg, just before her knee. The incredulity behind her eyes is almost certainly a challenge. Encouraged, Eliot kisses up her leg a bit before biting the inside of her thigh, letting his eyes fall closed as he does. She moans a little bit as she speaks.

“Fuck, I didn’t think you were serious.”

“You really think I’d dare to tease you in this mood?” He bites her again in the same spot, this time harder, but soothing it a bit with a stroke of his tongue. Okay, maybe he’ll tease a little. He moves his lips to her other thigh and kisses roughly, moving upward torturously slow. Eating pussy may be a bit out of his skill set, but Eliot is no stranger to building anticipation. Once he finds himself where her legs meet, he lightly runs his tongue along the border between her thigh and her vulva. Margo’s thigh jerks involuntarily at the contact.

“For someone who ‘wouldn’t dare tease me’, you’re doing an awful lot of it right now,” she says, a little breathless despite her efforts.

“I’m building an ambiance, Margo.”

Margo laughs, a mix of want and incredulity.

Eliot pushes her skirt up and out of the way with one hand, with the other he runs his thumb lightly from her slick opening up over her clit, drawing small circles before bringing his mouth over her. She’s so fucking wet. Margo stifles a small moan. Almost as soon as his lips close over her, he pulls away and looks up at her, checking in. Her eyes are closed and a smile he’s never seen before rests on her face. He returns his mouth to her lower lips, exploring her more fully, the flat of his tongue stroking up before his lips close over her clit. He lets his eyes fall closed and hums at the taste of her. Eliot is pleased, but not at all surprised, that all of Margo tastes like home.

Eliot feels one of Margo’s hands snake into his hair, massaging roughly before grabbing and tugging. He’s encouraged by her response and begins to pull back to joke about her enthusiasm, but he’s quickly stopped by her pulling his face back into her. He laughs against her lips and slips his tongue back into her wetness. He deepens his exploration of her, and the incoming scruff on his jaw brushes against Margo’s thigh in time with his tongue work. She moans at the contact, the roughness in delicious contrast to the soft tentativeness of his mouth. Her grip on his hair relaxes as Eliot strokes slowly with the flat of his tongue. He pulls back from her, and slides his hands up her thighs, lingering a bit before moving back to her core.

He brings his fingers to her wetness, stroking her entrance slowly before slipping one of them into her. He curls his finger inside her and languidly withdraws it before dipping back in. She bucks against him, aching for more. He knows he promised not to tease her, but he really can’t help himself. It’s not often he gets the chance to watch Margo lose control.

“What did we just discuss?” she scolds, doing a terrible job at masking the desperation in her voice. Eliot acquiesces and gives her another finger, stroking rhythmically inside her, her slickness dripping onto his hand. “Who do you think I am, El?” she’s playfully impatient, and tenses around his fingers to punctuate her need.

Rolling his eyes, he gives her yet another finger and leans back in, but is stopped by Margo pointedly clearing her throat. He looks up at her and she meets him with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. He gives her a fourth finger and returns his mouth to her clit with a laugh. His tongue traces shapes against her that he hopes make sense. She rewards him with small sounds that he’s fairly sure are solely for his benefit, but he takes her guidance and repeats the strokes that get the strongest response. Her soft moans fall back into her throat, growing rougher with each new stroke of Eliot’s fingers and tongue. His growing confidence creates firmer pressure against Margo, and she’s finally starting to feel the tension build up. A shiver runs down Eliot’s spine when he feels Margo’s fingers reclaim their place in his hair, fingernails sensually scratching his scalp.

Eliot is a quick study with a hungry ego, these little encouragements are all he needs to get a bit bold. He swirls his tongue over her clit with clever twists before giving her some gentle suction. Margo bucks against his mouth and gives a ragged moan and her grasp on his hair releases. She reaches back to grip the table with her now free hand, knocking her half empty champagne flute to the floor. The sound of the glass shattering causes Eliot to pause and look up.

“I swear to God, Eliot, if you don’t keep fucking going,” she says as she pulls his face back between her legs. He releases a throaty laugh and brings his mouth back over her clit with renewed vigor. Her breathing is heavy and laced with moans. Eliot quickly deepens the kiss of her lower lips, sucking and nipping at her clit with urgent pressure. His fingers thrust quickly in and out of her in time with his increasingly persistent mouth.

Breathing rapid and deep, Margo grabs Eliot by the hair and bucks, the knuckles on her other hand are white from gripping the table. Riding his mouth slow and hard, her moans ring out around them. The tension in her body boils over and spreads to her limbs, locking her joints before she goes limp in sweet release. Struggling to steady herself on the small table, she releases her grip on Eliot and makes her way to the floor to come down from her orgasm.

“Better?” He asks with a smile, his own breathing a bit heavy.

Margo turns her head to look at Eliot. The light catches the slickness on his lips, and she can’t help but be pleased. He moves closer to give her a kiss. It was supposed to be quick, but Margo slips her hand into his hair and deepens it, exploring his mouth with her tongue, moaning a bit. He was confused at first, but then realized she was enjoying the taste of herself, this bitch. His lips curl into a smile as she withdraws her tongue and pulls away.

“Holy fuck, El.” Margo manages through heavy breaths. “Thank you. I know you don’t—I can’t imagine you—”

“I’m not allergic to pussy, I’m just less familiar,” he offers in response to her incoherent rambling.

Margo’s breath begins to steady and she laughs a little before speaking. “Familiar enough for me.”

They sit for a while to catch their breath, tangled together, beautiful and filthy-gorgeous. Margo’s heartbeat is still fast enough to pound between her ears. When it finally slows down, she gets up on her knees, adjusts her skirt, and begins palming at the table in search of her mimosa. Once it occurs to her what happened to it, she looks over at the mess on the floor.

“We should probably clean that up before somebody walks in and gets hurt,” Eliot says.

“Not gonna lie, I kinda wanna make Todd do it.”

“Never change, Bambi,” he says, laughing. He’s definitely not bored anymore, that’s for certain.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you still with us, I wanted to mention that Vivi has the best headcanon about this piece. She’s come up with this whole notion that Todd may have come downstairs to find a snack and listened to them go at it for a bit. She is tempting me to write the fic.


End file.
